Street violence in Europe

Norman Fowler

Let us go back to October 1968. Then it was one or two figures on the right who were claiming that the anti-Vietnam war demonstrators should be banned from the streets of London. The violence of some (not all) of those demonstrators was undoubted and direct.

In March there had been a violent protest outside the United States embassy in Grosvenor Square. In the fighting 117 policemen and 47 demonstrators were injured and there were almost 250 arrests. The prediction was that the demonstration planned for Sunday October 27 would be even more violent — perhpas amounting to insurrection. Yet the October march was allowed to continue. The result is well known. There were Arrests and some injuries, but they Were few in contrast to the May riots in Paris and to the violence in several major German cities which followed the attempted assassination of Rudi Dutschke.

The British way of handling demonstrations was accounted a triumph: an example for the rest of West Europe. The Police were (rightly) the heroes of the hour. The Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police was praised for keeping his nerve. According to the Home Secretary, Mr Callaghan, it was a demonstration of British common sense. Yet Lewisham — and the reaction to it — suggests that we have been the victims of our own success. The clear break-down of law and order in several European nations at least led to anxious debates there about the handling of demonstrations and the role of the police. In Britain there has been little discussion, and Only one challenge to what we have come to see as the natural order, of things has set us thrashing around hopelessly for a comforting instant solution. Perhaps then it is our turn to look across the Channel not only for possible guidance but also as a means of Judging the scale of our problems.

The most popular course now being canvassed is that demonstrations by the National Front — and presumably equivalent organisations of the left — should be banned because of the chance of conflict. Yet how do you ban a demonstration? And at what price?

Let us imagine that the Socialist Workers' Party was planning to hold a demonstration but, for one reason or another, the authorities decided to ban it. And let us Imagine (no great effort is required) that the Socialist Workers decide to ignore the ban and go ahead with their demonstration — with the result that say a thousand of their suPporters decided to march.

The police task then becomes not to control the thousand but to disperse or arrest them — to prevent the demonstration from taking place. Individual policemen are automatically placed in positions of danger and the police service itself is portrayed in the repressive role of preventing 'the right of democratic protest' etc. The result: game, set and match to the Socialist Workers.

Anyone who believes that this picture is fanciful has only to look at European experience. A number of European governments learnt the lesson the hard way in the 'sixties. The Dutch Government learnt their lesson with the provos in 1966. In Amsterdam the police were wrong footed time and time again and provoked into what was seen (rightly or wrongly) as repressive action.

While, of course, the clearest warning of all came from Paris in 1968. There the crucial mistake was to send in the police to eject the students occupying the court-yard of the Sorbonne. Rather than let them sit it out, the French government decided on a course which led (and was always likely to lead) to direct confrontation. The result over the following days was the worst riots in France since the War.

No one doubts that the British authorities would be (under the 1936 Public Order Act) within their legal rights to ban demonstrations. But then the French Government was within its rights to clear the Sorbonne. The question remains whether, it can be sensible to pursue a policy which, if defied by only a few, makes confrontation between police and demonstrator not just a possibility but a cast iron certainty.

After the traumas of the 'sixties it is scarcely surprising that other European countries go to some lengths to prevent just such a situation arising. An example of the new approach came in Bremen earlier this year. In 1968 students front the local university protested at an increase in fares by sitting on the tram rails. The police were sent in with orders to move them and a pitched battle resulted — with much public sympathy going to the students. When a similar protest took place this January the tactics changed. The students were left sitting on the rails and the trams were diverted onto other routes. There was no 'fighting between the police and students — although once or twice the police were called in to protect the demonstrators from angry members of the public who had to walk further to catch their trams.

What is true of sit-ins applies also to political demonstrations. The general policy of Common Market governments is to allow the demonstration to take place but to seek to control it. In other words they apply the traditional Home Office policy: although often the police risk a kind of demonstrator rarely seen — even now — in Britain. It is not surprising then that the police aim of containment often fails. In any demonstration it is the demonstrator who calls the tune and the best policy-making in the World will not deflect a group intent

upon violence. In most nations of West Europe the threat of violence reserve forces — fully provided with the para-military equipment ,of riot control — stand by ready to deal with it.

Periodically the suggestion is made that Britain would be well advised to follow suit.

Yet those who advocate the formation of professional reserve forces usually base their case on a misconception. The reserve force is not a sign of strength but an unmis takable sign that the police can cope in no other way. No government from choice would keep thousands of police on reserve ready for an emergency, when other police jobs cry out for men.

What policy, then, should Britain pursue? There is little doubt that the public order position has deteriorated since the success of the Metropolitan Police in 1968 — both Grunwick and Lewisham have shown that. Nevertheless the position here is still better than in most of Europe and it would be a mistake for the violence of last weekend (even less the violence at Bir mingham) to force the police or the Home Office to fundamentally change policy.

Clearly there can be tactical changes — like the diversion of demonstrations — but the strategy of allowing demonstrations to take place and seeking to control them offers both police and public more assurance than attempts at prohibition.

When the right of peaceful demonstration (or the right to hold political meet ings) is turned into an occasion for violence then a major responsibility passes to the courts. The courts have the duty to deal in an exemplary way with those found guilty of violence: most of all those who arrive ready armed. An important part of sentencing has

always I been to demonstrate clearly the seriousness with which society regards a particular crime.

We would be wise, however, to heed one lesson from Europe. The riots of 1968 con centrated the minds of a number of governments — not least on their reliance upon the police. It was recognised that high police morale was a prerequisite of successful policy making.

Over the last few years priority has been given to improving the pay and conditions of the police. The result is that today police union leaders in countries like West Germany and the Netherlands concede pri vately (no self respecting union leader would state it publicly) that they are well treated,in comparison with other public ser vants. Policemen feel that the importance of their job is recognised. In Britain you do not have to talk to many policemen to know that the same is not true here — and we ignore that lesson from Europe at our peril.